


Thorns, Sticks and Other Honey Days

by theplotholesmademedoit



Series: How I Wish You Could Tell [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Outsider, Protective Spock, Soul Bond, errrmmm, married, reconnecting, sorry these tags suck, spirk fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplotholesmademedoit/pseuds/theplotholesmademedoit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year after their bonding, Spock and Jim come to visit Sarek on the Vulcan colony. It's not as simple as it's made to be.</p><p>Another companion piece to "Things the Crickets Know"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thorns, Sticks and Other Honey Days

**Author's Note:**

> So hey guys- finally added the addition to my "Things the Crickets Know" series (Which I've now renamed "How I Wish You Could Tell" after the line in the Pink Floyd song "Wish You Were Here" because it always got stuck in my head when I was writing these. Great song, by the way, I highly recommended it). In this installment Sarek is forced to resolve his grief for Amanda and make amends with Spock. It's set two years after Vulcan's destruction, if it's not clear.
> 
> I'm not crazy about this piece. I think it's choppy because the way I tried to combine Sarek's logic with my poetic writing style didn't really click and I wrote it in sort of disjointed chunks that I duck-tapped together at the end. I like writing from Spock's POV better, for reasons that don't make much more sense than the fact that his lips are pink. There are parts of it I like and I do think the concept as whole is interesting. Not sure my handling of it ended well though-You decide. 
> 
> Don't let my pessimism sway you from reading! Jim and Spock have some really adorable moments and Spock is very protective and calls Sarek out on mistreating Jim and Jim stands up for Spock and himself and there is general cuteness and plenty of angst. Also if you're a Sarek/Amanda fan, this is a story for you.
> 
> I shall conclude this less than eloquent ramble of an author's note with an enthusiastic shout out to my bran-spankin-new and awesome beta Kitbaker123. Good egg, that one. 
> 
> Anyways- Enjoy!

They come at midday.

The sun is arched high over the Vulcan Colony, inking the cliffs orange-gold with blocks of purple shadows.  The sky is a pale green, not the deep red of his homeworld, but aesthetically pleasing, none the less.

Sarek turns from the scenery, shaking dust off his meditation mat and rolling it back into its case.  He had been unable to achieve the deepest level of meditation, anyway.

There are two figures approaching in the distance. He can just make out his son’s black topped head bent close to the gold one of his bondmate, James T. Kirk. They stop approximately 151.23 yards away from the house.

Sarek does not walk out to meet them.  It would be illogical for him to move forward their inevitable arrival.  It is also illogical to procrastinate confrontation, but he does not dwell on that.

Kirk seems to sway a little and Spock turns to him, folding one hand over the small of his back and laying the other on his forehead.  They are close enough now that Sarek can see his son frown, all too humanly.

Words are bounced back and forth between the two, but all Sarek can understand, from watching the curves of Spock’s lips is, “We are almost there, Ashayam.”

Spock rounds the hand that was on Jim’s forehead though his hair and tugs the human closer to his side.

They trudge to the house rather slowly, Spock mostly supporting Jim. When they reach Sarek in the sparse garden out front, Spock quickly holds up his hand in the ta’al.

“Father,” he says, dropping his arm back around Jim’s waist, “Jim is overheated and under-oxygenated, due to this planet’s harsh climate, which is even less suited for non-Vulcanoids than our original planet. There will be time for pleasantries later, he must go inside.”

Kirk’s is head lolling into Spock’s shoulder, but he snaps it forward, raising a shaking hand in a less than adequate interpretation of the Ta’al.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, Ambassador.  It’s good to see you again.”

He has not spoken to Jim since his and Spock’s bonding ceremony, last year, and he has only spoken to Spock once during the intervening time.  Sarek merely nods, ushering them inside.

Spock’s back tenses the moment they cross the threshold.  He gently deposits Jim in a chair that’s pushed up against the front wall and whips around to face his father.

“You have not lowered the temperature controls,” anger rumbles in his voice, “You were aware that we were coming. Is it is not Vulcan custom to see to the needs of ones guests? Logically, since Jim is human, he would not be comfortable in such high temperatures.”

There’s a dangerous sheen to Spock’s eyes. They look almost as black and as hard as Le-matya’s claws.

Amanda used to look at him like that whenever he denied Spock the luxuries of his human heritage.  She was protecting her son as Spock is now protecting his bondmate.  It is... an unpleasant thought.

“I’m fine really, just a little dizzy,” Jim pants from the chair, his glazed blue eyes flicking back and forth between Spock and Sarek.

The fury in Spock’s eyes flashes away at the sound of Jim’s voice with the speed of the rapids that once twisted through the canyons of old Vulcan. He crouches down to him, lifting his fingers to stroke a pink-flushed temple.

“No, ashayam, you are not.”  He reaches into his bag, digging out a hypo, “This will help with your breathing.”

He pushes it into Jim’s neck, ghosting a thumb over the injection site when Jim winces. He turns to Sarek without letting go.

“I politely request that you obtain some iced water for Jim.”

Sarek just nods and disappears into the kitchen.

He scans the neat lines of glasses for one of suitable size, then pulls it from the cabinet and opens the freezer.  Jim and Spock’s whispered arguing is clearly audible over the clink of the ice cubes.

“You don’t need to look so put off-I doubt he did it on purpose.”

Sarek flicks on the tap, watching the water start to melt the cold, hard squares.

“Even so, it was inconsiderate and it caused you harm.”

“Maybe, but come on Spock, you’re never going to patch things up with him if you don’t give the guy a chance.”

“I will consider it.”

“But you won’t act on it.”

There is silence then a gruff sigh and the creak of the chair’s legs as Jim stands.

“It’s ok, it’s hard. I get it.  And I’m not one to talk, you know how fucked up my relationship with my mom is,” this is followed by the quite pop of a kiss.  “Don’t worry, you’ll get there.”

Sarek switches off the water, finding the glass has overflowed. He briefly feels shame at his lack of focus. Making a mental note to order his thoughts, he returns to the entranceway.

“I hope it is to your satisfaction,” he says, handing Jim the glass.

“It is, thank you,” Jim takes a sip and strains his lips into an over-wide smile for Sarek.

As a Vulcan, Sarek should not find the lack of conversation uncomfortable. However, the way that none of them speak, while Jim swallows the rest of his drink, has the odd effect of making the 50.3 seconds seem like several minutes.  It is something of a relief when he finishes.

“Well,” Jim looks at Spock, and hooks an arm over his taller shoulders, “I could use a shower.”

“Yes,” Spock quips, lifting the black slash of his eyebrow.

Amanda used to tease them, because both Sarek and Spock often made that identical expression. “My boys,” she would say, when they did it, mussing their perfectly straight hair and laughing when it poked up in different directions, “You are too adorable.”

“I will direct you to the guest room,” Sarek cuts off his memories- it is illogical to dwell on the past when it has no effect on the future- and leads them up the stairs.

…

Dinner that night is even less successful than their arrival.

Sarek had his cook, T’Peli, prepare a traditional Vulcan meal that Amanda used to say was not displeasing to the human palate-well, she did not phrase it quite like that, but the intent was the same. It's made from the blue and gold leaves of the Lytemera tree, as well as its rich, green fruit.  The dish is drizzled with a thick sauce that contains a type of Vulcan nut, made rare by the planets destruction, and impractical to use in common meals. As a substitute, he requests that T’Peli use earth peanuts, which happen to have a very similar flavor.

He tastes it, when the three of them are seated, finding its flavor is not as desirable as when it was prepared by she who was his wife. This is not surprising: he has discovered this about many of what used to be his preferred meals.

Jim makes a strained effort to engage Sarek and Spock in conversation. It is mostly unsuccessful. The human animatedly babbles about how good the food is, and their recent missions, trying to coax Spock into filling in parts of the stories.

Spock will respond to Jim, but usually only with single word answers.  Sarek, for his part, remains silent unless directly addressed.

It is Vulcan custom for guests to show their appreciation to their host by tending to the after meal dishes, and drying plates does not stop the human from chattering enthusiastically, despite his less than talkative companions.

“So, Bones ended up being a Gorn’s midwife! It was -” Jim cuts off, clearing his throat. He drops the bowl he was scrubbing with a gasp, the delicate ceramic material shattering on the floor.  His hands shoot up to his neck as he wheezes, trying to cough.

“Jim!” Spock dashes to Jim’s side, cupping both of his cheeks in his palms. “What is wrong?”

Sarek watches Spock’s eyes expand, widening slightly, then narrowing into near slits.  He can tell they are communicating through the bond, can read the all too familiar signs of silent conversation in the twitch of their features.

“I will be back, momentarily.”  Spock’s lips dart to Jim’s forehead and he sprints up the stairs.

It leaves Sarek alone, for a moment, with Jim. He meets the human’s frantic blue eyes, at a loss as to what he should be doing.  He settles for steering him to a couch, and Jim has just sunk into the cushions when Spock rushes back in, hypo hand.

He quickly pushes it into Jim’s neck then tugs his bondmate into his lap.  They tangle together, Jim beginning to breath normally as he sags against Spock’s chest. Spock whispers to him, and then they fall silent for a minute, Sarek standing stiffly three feet away.  Another minute passes and Jim speaks.

“My lucky day, hunh?  First heat stroke then an allergy attack,” he gives a winded chuckle into Spock’s neck, “Bones would have my head.”

Sarek sees Spock’s arms tighten slightly around Jim.

“I fail to see how you developing conditions that have the capability to lead to death twice in one day is at all humorous.”

Jim kisses Spock’s neck.

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Illogical, as moods do not have colors.”

A playful slap lands on Spock’s shoulder and Jim snorts.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Perhaps,” Spock’s mouth twitches up.  It is barely a movement, but it’s there, nonetheless.  He inhales againts Jim’s hair then lifts his chin to look at his father, nothing soft about his expression now.

“Jim is allergic to peanuts. Why did you not inform us you had replaced the tryel nuts with them in the sauce?  Had I not been able determine the cause of the allergic reaction, his ingesting them could have been fatal.”

Sarek blinks once, twice.

“I was not aware of his allergy. I did not think the change in the recipe significant. I apologize if I inadvertently endangered you, James.”

Spock opens his mouth to protest, but Jim interrupts him.

“You didn’t know, it’s fine.”  He not so subtly jams his elbow into Spock’s ribs, “Right Spock?”

Spock looks at Jim, then back to his father.

“Indeed. If you will excuse us, I believe Jim requires rest. We will retire for the night.”

And they leave.

...

Sarek does not see much of either of them for the next 2.65 days. They awaken once he has gone to meditate then spend the day hiking, returning long after Sarek has eaten his late-day meal.  During those 2.65 days he has not been able to achieve the deepest level of meditation necessary for optimal health.

It is because of this fact that he exits his room exactly two hours earlier than usual on the third morning of Spock and Jim's visit, intending to set out for his preferred meditation spot in the newly explored Val-tor Mountains.  And it is also because of this fact that he enters the hallway that connects to the kitchen early enough to hear an impressive string of Terran curses.

"For fuck's sake!" is followed by a metallic thud. (Sarek reasons it was most likely a rather passionate kick to the base of his replicator.) "Ow! Damn it!  I said cereal, not ‘crustacean’ and certainly not ‘cockroach’! Who the hell programmed you anyway, my three year old nephew could do better-"

"Completing request for butter," comes the cold notes of the computer.

"Butter?" Jim groans, "Really?"

Serak chooses that particular moment to enter the kitchen finding, as he expected, his human son-in-law glaring at the yellow-white blocks that have appeared in the replicator.  His arms are shoved into a cross over his chest and his loose black t-shirt flaps up as he jerks his hands in defeat. The shirt is hung over a pair of pale blue boxers speckled with yellow smiling faces, most of which have tongues flopping out of their semicircle mouths.

It is Spock's tee shirt, Serak realizes with a spike of an unfamiliar emotion that he files away to be dissected later.

"Hello James," he says, offering the ta'al.

Jim jumps, large rose colored smears blooming on his cheeks. His eyes zigzag between the bowl of butter and Sarek as he rubs his fingers over his scalp, making his hair stand up in yellow and brown shocks even messier than they had been, 40.3 seconds ago, when Sarek arrived.

"Sarek, Hi. I didn't think you'd be up yet.  I would have..." he tilts his chin towards his smiley face boxers, "...Erm, made myself more properly clothed."

Sarek nods with a stiff jolt of his neck.  "Your illogical human attire is of no consequence to me. Where is Spock?"

"Right. Thanks," Jim says, rocking on the balls of his bare feet, "He's still asleep, I think I wore him out.... uh hiking."

Jim's face splotches red again and Sarek decides not to comment on how improbable it is that a Vulcan would tire from hiking.

He makes Jim uncomfortable, especially when Spock is not with them. Sarek knows that, and the fidgeting and obvious signs of nervousness are unnecessary proof.  It is true that he had initially disapproved of Spock taking Jim as a bondmate. It was not, however, out of dislike of the irrational human but due to fact that New Vulcan's population is drastically low and it would be more logical for Spock to procreate with a female of their species.

"They are T'hy'la,” the Elders had proclaimed when he protested.  The wrinkles that gathered in tan folds above T'Pau's eyes had tightened as she narrowed them to stare down at Sarek, she balanced high on her pedestal, and he standing on the ground.  "We owe James T. Kirk a great debt and it would be an injustice to forbid he and S'chn T'gai Spock from bonding."

Her eyelids had slackened then and, softer this time, she said, "My Grandson, your mind and your heart are not aligned in this matter. You have faced the loss of she who was your wife.  Consider your grief and consider your logic. You may find you are at fault for reasons you have not yet considered."

He had resisted anger and resigned himself to her words, but had found them useless and was beginning to wonder if their clan matriarch's intelligence was deteriorating.

He selects a spindly native fruit from a basket on the counter and watches Jim fiddle with the knobs of the replicator, once again asking it to produce cereal. The butter flashes gold then vanishes, in its place a plate of pigs intestines appearing.  Jim sighs in exasperation, but refrains from cursing, no doubt because of Sarek's presence.

"The replicator is specifically programmed to understand Vulcan, its ability to recognize standard is very limited. It is unlikely that you will be able to get it to produce cereal."

Jim puffs out another sigh, this one slower.  It makes the ruddy skin of  his cheeks stretch round with air before he releases it.

"That's alright, I guess I'll just wait until Spock wakes up."

Jim pins him with the unnatural blue of his eyes before he turns and starts to step away.

"Wait."

Serak is stunned by his own impulsiveness.  If asked, he would probably say it was illogical for Jim to wait an unknown amount of time for Spock awaken when Sarek was perfectly capable of speaking to the replicator for him.  If he were to be truthful, he would say it was because of Amanda.

Because, although their estrangement had ended with her death, relations between Sarek and his son had been strained since Spock had bonded with Jim. The way Spock's too human eyes, so like hers, got hard when he looked at his father made Sarek realize he was starting to forget the honeyed heat that flushed in his stomach when his wife smiled at him.  So, maybe Sarek could not form a coherent or rational reason as to why he had asked Jim to wait but, it must have had something to do with wanting the feeling again and knowing, somewhere in his baser instincts, that fixing things with Jim was the only way he was going to get it.

“I can speak to the replicator, if you would like."

Jim stops.  His shoulders are tight spikes through the black folds of his shirt, the little yellow faces that were swinging around his legs, in the crinkles of his boxers, suddenly still and stiff.  He turns, clearly surprised.

"Uh, sure. Thanks."

Sarek nods in acknowledgement.

"What kind of cereal would you like it to produce?”

“Uhh,” Jim shuffles a bit, absently pulling on the hem of his teeshirt, something he has often seen his son do, “Fruity Frosted Shuttlecrafts, if that’s not a problem, Sir.”

Jim’s cheeks are pink again, in a blush, which it seems he is prone to doing.  Amanda use to blush. Not as often as Jim, but Sarek always found it irrationally endearing.  Seeing it on Spock’s bondmate makes something unpleasant curl in his stomach.

He nods and speaks to the replicator in Vulcan. A bowl of alarmingly colored tiny shuttlecrafts materializes on the round pad.

“There is sehlat milk in the refrigerator.”

Jim flashes him a tight smile.

“Thank you.”

Sarek bends, picking up the wooden cylinder that hosts his meditation mat. It was gift from Amanda, years ago, and there are spirals and Vulcan symbols carved into it, as well as the inscription “Have a good think, Sweety!” curved around the cap. His fingers ghost over the dents of the letters.

“Thanks are illogical.”

He turns to leave, the cold click of his sandals loud on the tile.

“Wait.”

Jim’s voice is hesitant but strong, something lurking in the single syllable.  One should not make predictions without evidence, but Sarek is sure this conversation will not be a pleasurable one. His foot freezes just past the doorframe. He does not turn.

“I know... I know you don’t like me much, but,” the human sighs and out of the corner of his eye Sarek sees bare pink toes wiggle against the floor, “But I want you to know that I love Spock, more than anything. I may not be a pointy-eared female, but I’m always going to act in his best interests, and I’m always going to do everything I can to make sure he’s happy.  Yeah, happiness may be an emotion, but I know you guys feel them, even if you insist on expending most of your energy to keep them locked away.”

Sarek swallows, the olive skin over his adam’s apple tightening up and down in his throat.  Jim takes a thick breath.

“I can’t imagine what it would be like, to be without Spock. We’ve only been bonded for a year, but I have never felt so complete as I do with his presence in my mind, in my life. Even the thought of losing him makes my stomach hurt and my pulse speed up. Can you hear it?”

And Sarek can. The slow thump of human blood swinging and churning through veins gets louder, almost fast enough to be mistaken for a Vulcan.

“So I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry that your son lost his mother and I’m sorry that you have to live without her.”

There is a sharp pain stretching through the region of Sarek’s chest. His grip on the case grows tighter, so tight that the sturdy wood might splinter if he squeezed a little more.

“But I think, she would be proud of Spock.  And I think you should be too.”

Sarek tries to speak, sound doesn’t make it past his throat. He swallows, tries again.

“It is not your place to make such judgements.”

Jim does not hesitate now.

“Maybe not, but I’m making them anyways. It’s my place to try to help Spock. He loves you, though he’s crap at showing it, and it hurts him that you keep pushing him away.”

Sarek tucks the case into the pockets of his robe, finding to his dismay that his hand trembles.

“You... you are illogical. Your marriage to my son is not logical.”

The bowl of frosted shuttlecrafts is slammed harshly on to the counter.

“So?  You didn’t marry Amanda because it was logical!  You married her because you loved her!”

“The circumstances were entirely different, I ask that you cease speaking of these matters at-”

“It’s the same thing!  And you know what I think?  I think you don’t disapprove of me because I’m human and can’t procreate, I think you disapprove of me because I remind you of her.  I remind you of her and that kills you because you never really learned how to grieve and you haven’t figured out how to let yourself move on.  You miss her and you can’t stand me because every time you see Spock and I together you think...”

Sarek whips around, dislodging the case from his pocket.  It clatters on the floor, rolling in slow arch that peaks at Jim’s feet then inches slowly back to Sarek.

“Stop this. I dislike you because you are not of adequate intelligence or character for-”

“That is quite enough.”

Spock’s voice, dangerous and icy, strikes from the shadows of the corridor. He steps out into the kitchen, high ceiling lights exaggerating the hard angles driven into his features by shortly leashed anger.  He moves in between Jim and Sarek, his stiff stance shielding Jim.

“You will cease speaking to my bondmate in such a manner.  I believe it would be best if you depart for your meditation now. Giving in to Jim’s insistence that we visit you may not have been a wise decision on my part,” He brushes Jim’s shoulder with his hand then closes to only a foot away from Sarek, “I would prefer it to not have been addressed so bluntly, but I believe Jim is correct is his analysis of you.”

Spock stretches out a hand, as if to touch Sarek’s arm, but his fist twitches closed and drops back down to his side, clenching behind his back with its twin. Sarek had suggested that habit when as a child, Spock was often scolded for instinctually touching others in a way that was unacceptably human.  He feels a cold shock of something not unlike regret.

“Please, Father.  Consider what has been said.  I do not wish this distance from you.”

Sarek cannot say anything, cannot make his lips move, he seems only able to stare at Spock.  He shakes himself out of it, raising his head in what is not quite a nod, and rushes from the house.  If he walks more quickly to the mountains than usual, that is only because there is a chill in the air.

…

He doesn’t wish to consider what Jim said or what T’Pau said or what Spock said or...  what Amanda would have said.

But he cannot help it.

Their words, and her smile, crash around his head in a loop as if the thoughts keep bouncing against the walls of his skull. It is rumored that Vulcan’s do not have tear ducts.  This - is a falsehood.

For the first time in 48.9 years, Sarek cries.  It is a painful and unpleasantly messy process he vowed he would not experience again at the age of five.  Tears burn, hooking under his jaw and scalding down his neck.

Amanda cried, sometimes.  Once, when her sister died, Sarek held her through the night, allowing her tears to soak into his skin until the sun rose. This thought only prompts more water to stubbornly squeeze from his eyes because, for an irrational moment, he wished she were here with him to do the same.

…

When he comes back to the house it is dark, the sky black with an inked green at its cap. Stars interrupt the smooth rush of it, the scattered impression of other worlds. There is a moon on this planet and the thin sliver stands as a stamp of all that they have lost.

Spock is in the garden toying with the dry sand and the roots of a dead plant.  Sarek comes up behind him, feet silent in the dust.

“She would have loved him.”

Spock flips his eyes towards him in poorly concealed surprise. Perhaps he is not trying to conceal it.

“Your mother.  She would have been, as the human terms goes, “smitten” with Jim. I am certain she would have instantly adopted him the moment she realized the depth of his adoration for you.”

Sarek sits beside his son, tucking his ankles under his shins and carefully placing his mat against his knee.

“You were so alone as a child, Spock, something I regret not attempting to amend. I have not seen you as...happy as you are with Jim in the entirety of your life.  He was accurate in his assessment of my disapproval of him, save on one primary detail that he likely did not even consider.”

Spock drops the plant, tucking his arms around his torso.

“Are you going to enlighten me as to what that detail is?”

The usual evenness of his voice is absent. Sarek slowly moves his hand to fold over Spock’s knee. It occurs to him, this is the first time he has touched another being in 2.3 years, since Amanda's death.

“Jim is human.”

“But you just-”

“Jim is human, and he will die.  Even if he lives out his full life cycle, he will die before you. That is a pain I never wished for you to know, my son.”

They are silent, for a while. There are few night insects on this planet. On Vulcan there was a species similar to the earth crickets that filled the darkness with their chatter.

Suddenly, Spock raises his hand, fingers spread and palm dipped in.  It is one half of a kiss shared between a parent and a child. Spock had often done it with Amanda, but never with Sarek.

Sarek meets Spock’s fingertips with his own.

Spock - smiles.  It is not in the way Amanda used to, it doesn't press up into his cheeks or crinkle his eyes.

But it is more than enough.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Watchya think? Did is this as meh as I think it is or am I just being hard on my self? Ya'll like it, hate, love it, think it needs more unicorns, or none of the above? 
> 
> Just so ya know- I'm posting a new chapter of What Has Seeds tonight, as well as a kid fic oneshot, so keeps your internet eyes peeled if you're interested.
> 
> Those brave souls who hit the kudos button or comment shall receive immortality or jellybeans, depending on what I have in stock.


End file.
